Who Makes You Feel
by JooseBoxx
Summary: Unable to use his fists to get Karofsky off Kurt's case, Puck goes to other measures to keep Kurt at McKinley. Warning for semi-prostitution, light bondage. Rating for content.


**Disclaimer: **Not mine. No money. No affiliation.

So, Puck's always been a bit of a jackass. He knows that. He's never really held back or claimed to be anything else. But things are different now, at least with the Glee kids and all that 'we stick together' crap and really, Puck kind of likes not being a total fuck up anymore. Sure, his rep took a few hits, but it's not like he really needs that anyway. People are still scared of him and he's still a fucking badass. And people are fucking with his mellow on this, okay. Because Kurt's talking about leaving and Finn's all devastated and Mercedes and Tina are close to fucking tears and it's just not cool.

See, he was watching when the other guys warned Dave to back off, he was there when they were telling him to leave Kurt alone and damn if he didn't want to get in there too, but if he had, he wouldn't have seen it. Yeah; Dave was a bully, but it was never the psychological stuff, Dave was never all that good at head games. Locker checks, dumpster dives, slushy facials, that was more Karofsky's style. So it was surprising that Dave was stepping it up to a more psychological terror. At least until it clicked just what Dave was doing -because really, if this was what Dave was playing at, Rachel would've been the better target. Not Kurt. Not unless there was something else going on.

"Hey, Kurt," the club had descended into this blabbering panic about Kurt leaving after he'd broke the news, so no one actually noticed Puck slip out and chase the smaller boy. "Wait a minute."

"Don't bother, Puck. There's nothing to convince me about, so please just, don't." Kurt's tired of it, Puck can see that. He knows that he's partly to blame for all this crap, he started it, he invented the slushy facial, he never said no to something like a prank, he never stopped people from slushying the Gleeks even after he'd joined Glee himself. So yeah, he feels a bit like shit that Kurt's being forced away from his friends, and besides, Kurt's kinda like his boy now, like Artie is.

"Gimme the weekend." Kurt stares at him. "C'mon, I can't do anything here, just give me until after the weekend, if he's still doing it, if it's still shit, I'll fucking help you pack, okay?" He can't get into a fight, he can't use his fists and show Karofsky that it's not okay to mess with his boy, so he'll just need to fall back on his other talent and go from there. If he can convince Kurt to just wait a few more days.

"Just what are you planning?" He knows that Kurt doesn't _want _to leave, even if this place is a total dump, it's still their dump and he's got all his friends and his clubs and all that going on here. Besides, Finn's finally got his head out of his ass about stepping up and acting like a damn brother and friend.

"Probably better if you don't know." He doesn't know if it's better for Kurt or better for Puck, but either way he figures that Kurt would probably try to talk him out of it or just flat out refuse -Kurt was decent that way, even if Puck didn't necessarily deserve it. "C'mon man, just the weekend. You've got two more days, Finn can be your fucking shadow until then."

So, Kurt gives him an okay, and they go back to Glee where Kurt apologises for a hasty decision and promises that he'll think things over. Puck just gives him one nod and Finn looks at him with this gratefulness that makes Puck miss when they were actually bros. He hates that stupid feeling so he brushes it all off and sits back down while everyone fusses over Kurt and Puck plans out just how the hell this is going to work.

He needs to talk to Karofsky outside of school, because there's no way he'll be able to do this at McKinley -Dave's likely to deny it a lot and then there will be punches thrown and Puck just wouldn't hold back. Sure, Karofsky would be gone, but so would Puck and Kurt may or may not look at that as a reasonable outcome -sometimes, Puck does wonder. Dave doesn't live too far away from Puck, he's been over to the Karofsky place once or twice when they had stupid 'bonding' sessions while Tanaka was trying to justify how bad he sucked as a coach. He's nervous, sure, because this is possibly the most fucked up thing he's done, like, ever. But it's what needs to be done so, he'll do it. It's all he fucking can do since he was an idiot.

He's half expecting Dave's dad to answer the door, but even two parent families need to work long hours or whatever, so Dave is the one that opens the door and Puck knows that he's about to slam it in his face. "Hold up and hear me out. You're gonna want to." He's pretty sure that he knows _exactly _what it is that Kurt isn't saying, to anyone, pretty sure that he's on the ball with this. So yeah, Dave is totally going to want to listen to him. They stand in Dave's living room, staring at each other across the room and Puck's suddenly hit with 'how the hell do I word this' and he's got no clue what to say.

"You're the one who came here, say your piece and get out." Dave's trying not to look agitated, trying not to appear a little nervous, and Puck knows that Dave is sure Puck's there for a beat down -Dave's earned one.

"Some people might be stupid enough to buy this whole 'homophobe' thing, but I don't." Puck's known Karofsky about as long as he's known Finn, he's just always been closer to Finn. Dave's not the phobic type, not really. Yeah, he's a jerk and a bully and a dick just like Puck, but it's mostly thanks to how they've come up through high school and all that.

Dave's arms cross over his chest as he glares, "What the fuck are you talking about Puckerman?" He really wonders if he should explain to Dave that it's those reactions that sort of give him away, and Puck knows he's onto it, this might actually work.

"I'm just wondering if it's Kurt specifically, or if it's just because he's a walking neon sign that screams 'I like dick' or whatever." Karofsky gets shifty looking, glare less pronounced and this almost worried look on his face. "Chill the fuck out, dude. Just answer the question. Is it Kurt or are you just getting out some of that tension?"

"Shut the fuck up." Dave explodes pretty much like Puck guessed he would, storming across the room to get into Puck's face. "You don't know what you're talking about." Dave's got maybe an inch or two on Puck, and he's just a little bulkier, but Puck knows for sure if it comes down to it, he'd kick Dave's ass in a heartbeat. But that isn't what this is about and he just needs to not lose his cool.

"It's pretty simple, are you jonesing for Hummel or just dick in general." The swing comes from the right and Puck catches it and twists and they both end up twisting around a little until Puck's pressed against the side of the sofa and Dave's right in front of him. Normally, Puck would bring up his own fist to sock the guy in the face, or headbutt his nose and shove him away, and considering how they're standing, just raising his knee would cause untold damage. But they are finally getting to the point here. Because Dave's not pulling away, if anything he's pushing forward and Puck gives him a hard stare that pretty much shows that he's got Dave there. "So, it's not Kurt specifically."

Because Dave is hard, like fucking full blown stiff, and pressing into the front of Puck -really, this shouldn't feel like a win, but Puck's done worse for less and it's just sex so what the hell does it matter? Dave looks like he's about to say something when he just shakes his head, he honestly must realise that Puck knew exactly what he was doing when he came here with his little tid-bit of knowledge. What he does instead is pull his arm free and grab Puck to pull him forward. Dave wouldn't usually have the upper hand strength wise, but Puck's actually surprised at this, so Dave manages it, and then it's this harsh, biting press of mouths and Puck's surprised all over again. He doesn't pull away, because this is what he's looking for, but Dave does after a few seconds and stares at him.

Puck lets him go in for a second kiss, less harsh and more of an actual kiss that just their lips smashing together. It's tentative, because Dave clearly isn't sure about this yet, so Puck lets him set the pace, building it up casually until Dave is nipping at Puck's lip and licking through his mouth and gasping against his cheek. It goes on for a few minutes before Dave pulls at Puck's hips, grinding them both against each other and Puck needs to kick his brain back into function and remember _why_ he's here, doing this.

"You back off Kurt," he's a little breathless himself, "just leave him the fuck alone, no threats, no shoulder checks, no slushies, nothing. It's like he doesn't exist." Dave starts to pull away before stopping, hand gripping at Puck's hip while the other squeezes the back of his neck.

"Why would I do that?" See, as far as Puck can figure it, there aren't a lot of options in Lima, not even for experimentation. Kurt's the first and only openly gay kid in McKinley, at least in the length of time they've been at school. He's possibly one of five gay guys in town who are open about it -and two out of those five are Rachel's dads. So it's not like there's a lot to work with. But Puck, well, Puck is under no illusions. He's got two talents, being an jackass and being a whore. Both sort of work in his favour here.

"Well, there isn't a lot I say no to." He's pretty sure Dave will figure that out on his own. He's basically whoring himself out, again, just to keep Kurt at McKinley, he knows this. But he literally _has_ done worse shit for way less. Because Kurt is his friend, sure they probably wouldn't call each other that _out loud _but the fact remains that he considers Kurt to be his boy and that means stepping up. The other guys couldn't get it done, Finn waited too long to get his ass in gear, it was down to Puck and that meant by whatever means necessary.

"Seriously?" It's somewhere between surprise, shock and disbelief. Really, people put too much stock on what's going on. Puck figures that sex is sex, right? It can't be too different. Hundreds of guys can't all be masochistic fuckers so there has to be something to this whole anal sex thing and yeah, Puck's willing to go the distance to make up for all this past shit between him and Kurt, even if Kurt _never_ knows.

"That's how it works; no more shit with Kurt and," he kind of feels a little bit like dirt when he says it, "well, whatever you want."

"What if I want to fuck you? What if I want you to suck me off? You gonna get on your knees for me, Puckerman?" It's a challenge, as if Dave can scare Puck out of this if he makes it more real. But Puck's spent the whole afternoon thinking it through and he can't possibly be scared out of it if he couldn't talk himself out of it. He doesn't look away from Dave as he reaches down to start unbuttoning Dave's jeans, noticing the way Dave's pupils dilate and the way he swallows; he's seen this in countless cougars and he knows it's a done deal. He pushes Dave back just a bit before dropping to his knees as he pulls Dave's jeans out of the way and, yeah, there's Dave's cock and Puck just needs to man up and go for it.

It's weird, sure. He's not all that convinced this should feel good, but as he licks up the underside to the head, Dave groans slightly, and Puck goes with it, closing his mouth around the tip and then swallowing down. It's heavy, this musky sort of taste and it feels weird on his tongue, even as he flicks his tongue around the ridges and bobs his head. Dave's hand closes around the back of Puck's head, pushing slightly to urge him on and Puck chances a glance up to see Dave's head tipped back and his mouth hanging open, so apparently he's doing okay with this. He's pretty sure he's gotten enough blowjobs to know the basics -no teeth, not too much suction, and if you can get it to work, swallowing around the length feels really fucking good. There's no way he's letting Dave fuck his face though. He does let Dave's hips thrust slightly, jerking just a little and forcing Puck to take just a little bit more than he was. The hand on his head clenches and Puck figures that maybe that'll help Dave get off -he's all for control and everything. So maybe he lets Dave fuck his face just a little; there's this hiss of a groan when Karofsky realises what Puck's letting him do, his other hand moving down to stroke the side of Puck's jaw before he starts to shift his hips a little more. It's long, slow thrusts and Puck feels his throat tightening every time that Dave nudges just towards the back of his mouth, but Puck hums around the cock in his mouth and holds to Dave's hips to steady himself and just works on getting Dave off while he controls the pace.

He's just a little bit stunned when Dave pushes him backwards, his shoulders hit the sofa and he sort of sprawls on his haunches right as Dave grips his cock and comes with a shot. It hits Puck's cheek and mouth and chin and really, it's the worst warning that he's ever been given over anything, but at least Dave didn't just come in his mouth and make him choke on it or whatever. But Puck can't help but lick his lips, it's right fucking there and it's impossible not to do it. It's only after when he sees Dave's face, staring down at him and, shit, there's that fucking lust all over again and Puck really doesn't know what he's thinking when he runs his thumb over the corner of his mouth before sucking that into his mouth too. He's still got it on his cheek and chin though, and he pulls the bottom of his shirt up to use the inside to wipe that away and Dave pulls his jeans back up, still watching every move Puck makes.

"Come over tomorrow," Dave gives him the once over, even as he's licking his own lips and clearly thinking things over. "I'll leave Hummel alone, and you pay up." Yeah, totally feels like dirt again right there, but it was his idea, so Puck just nods. He heads home; normally he'd head over to Finn's or just go hang out with Mike, but right then, he sort of doesn't want to. He showers and sits to do his homework -seriously, that's where his head is at, homework is a viable distraction technique. Except he's not even sure what he's distracting himself from; the fact that he's whoring himself to Dave Karofsky for the sake of Kurt Hummel or the fact that he didn't hate it.

Everyone is on edge the next day during school, Finn really is shadowing Kurt, and if Finn isn't with him then Sam or Mike is and if that isn't the case then there's a swarm of the girls around him. Puck just sort of keeps his distance, but keeps an eye out for Dave -because seriously, if just one thing happens, Puck will break Karofsky's face, juvie or no. But nothing happens, and by lunch, there's some kind of calm started to filter through them. "Whatever you did," Kurt's half smiling, shaking his head, "seriously, you're not getting in trouble are you?" Puck just shrugs one shoulder, ignoring the look that the others are giving him. Like they thought swarming Kurt was really the reason Dave was practically invisible the whole day. Puck's got a pretty good idea what payment for this is going to be, he's pretty sure that it'll be the other thing that Dave mentioned yesterday and he's a little nervous about that. He doesn't even know what the hell he should do about it -should he take the lube and condoms? Will Dave actually think that far ahead? Is that even on the agenda? Puck was being serious, there's not a lot he will say no to -he's not into some stuff, but he'll go through with just about anything once (with some exceptions, but some shit is just flat out weird) and Dave seems a little vanilla to Puck, so it might not be an issue. He ends up tossing a couple of condoms into his backpack anyway, just to be sure.

He's told his Ma that he's out with some friends from the team, he's already promised her he won't do anything to screw up his probation and she's probably the only person who knows just how serious he is about _never_ going back there, so she's mostly cool with him going out on school nights anyway -his grades are the best they've been ever thanks to Artie's help, so she's sort of cutting him some slack. So he's pretty much free for however long this takes and the anticipation and anxiety is knotting in his gut right about then; what the hell was he thinking? Really, did he honestly think this would be a good idea? And then he remembers it's sort of the only idea and just shuts himself the fuck up and drives over to Dave's place. Why Dave's parents aren't there, Puck doesn't care, not really, because it means even fewer people are asking questions. Dave doesn't say a word when he opens the door, nodding Puck in and then closing the door and flicking the lock -it's just common sense, it's not like burglary isn't a possibility around here, but Puck still has to fight off this uneasy feeling that settles somewhere in his chest.

There's still nothing said as Dave jerks his head towards upstairs and Puck just follows, half looking around the place and half not even catching which door they go in. Dave's room is pretty basic -twin bed, desk, tv with a games console, wardrobe, football stuff around the place and a lamp on a bedside table. It's all just normal teenage boy stuff, really. Not that Puck had even thought about what to consider -hell, for all he knew Dave could fuck him over the sofa and then kick him out, he wouldn't be the first to do that. Puck's sort of startled out of his thoughts as Dave comes to stand behind him, neck turning to the side slightly, Puck doesn't say a word as Dave reaches around to run his hand over Puck's stomach. This is something he didn't expect. There were a few cougars who were simply about getting off and getting gone, but there were the occasional ones that liked to draw it out, make it fun, the ones that didn't need to worry about their husbands coming home or kids coming home early or anything like that. Honestly, Puck thought Dave would be another of those get off and get gone types. Not so much it seems.

Puck didn't bother with a jacket, it's still fairly warm during the day, so it wasn't a big deal. The shirt he's wearing is thin enough that it practically feels like Dave's hand is on his skin, trailing right above the top of his jeans and Puck's still a little wary about this whole thing, until Dave steps forward and presses against Puck's back, other hand holding to Puck's hip to pull him back. Dave's cock is hard against Puck's ass and Puck feels his heartbeat stutter a little and his breathing gets deeper. It's an odd reaction, he's sure, except it's not anxiousness or nervousness coiling in his gut now; it's anticipation, want, it's that steady thrum of lust for the action and he knows that because his cock just took notice. He should be surprised, how easy it is, but he's always been far too hedonistic for his own good and pleasure is pleasure. "How does it usually work?"

He doesn't know if the question startles the jerk out of him, or Dave's hand slipping under his shirt to stroke over his skin, but the reaction is the same. His back arches a little, muscles fluttering a little under the light teasing touch and his throat tightening a little. "Well, since there isn't a usual for _this_," because it's easy with women, he's the chaser even if they are the ones that want the thrill, it's simple and easy and he just goes with it. But this is completely different. "Just, whatever." He doubts Dave is about to break out the paddles and whips, so he's fine to just go with this just now, even if Dave is freaking him out a little with the slowness of it all.

"Kick off your shoes." It's something he can do without question, follow those sorts of instructions. He toes off his boots, kicking them to the end of Dave's bed and then, as an after thought, stands on the ends of his socks to get them off too. It's just easier getting it done now rather than fumbling later. Dave's hand slides right on back under Puck's shirt, stroking up his chest and back down his abs before grabbing the bottom and pulling it up over Puck's head to toss it to the desk. Both of Dave's hands slide up Puck's chest, on each side and he can't help the hiss and moan when Dave's fingers graze over the now torn nipple. Dave stops for a bare few seconds before he does it again, this time with a little more pressure and Puck whines while leaning back into Dave, actually pushing his ass against Dave's cock. He's slept with Santana twice since he got out of juvie and both times they were dirty, fast and mostly just about getting off. He knew that the nipple was sensitive, but he didn't think it was sensitive in _this_ way. Dave's mouth presses to the side of Puck's neck while his fingers keep teasing at the scarred flesh and Puck's surprising even himself with just how he reacts.

He's rock fucking hard in his jeans, surges of pleasure and pain pulsing from that one point of his body, and pressing back against Dave, practically rubbing against the other jock. "Stop, stop," he's not sure if it's too much or not enough or something completely different, but he just cannot take any more of the pressure. Dave's hand smooths down over the pec, giving one last rub over the nipple that makes Puck whine and bite his lip before Dave starts tugging at Puck's jeans. His jeans and boxers are gone, left to lie on the floor and Dave wraps his hand around Puck's erection to a startled gasp, because really, is Dave throwing out the play book here? It's just a little different from getting a handjob from some chick; Dave's hand is bigger and just a little more sure of what he's doing, not to mention Puck is acutely aware that he is indeed with a dude. He's sort of proud of himself for not hesitating when Dave turns him towards the bed, because this is what he's here for and turning back now doesn't help Kurt and that's what it's all about.

The back of his calves hit the bed but Dave makes a point of keeping Puck standing, holding him by the hips and pressing to his front. He wasn't expecting the kiss, not really, the kiss before had purely been about proving a point, but this just isn't and Puck's thrown by that. Puck figures that Dave's just exploring or whatever, so he opens to the slightly hesitant probing, groaning slightly at the first touch of Dave's tongue; he takes his time, sliding along against Puck's, stroking back and sucking lightly on Puck's bottom lip before pressing for a deeper kiss, groaning into Puck's mouth himself, hands moving up Puck's ribs and only stopping when they find a scar and Dave pulls back from the kiss. The scar on Puck's side is as old at the scarring around his nipple and he just shakes his head at Dave's silent question because he's not about to talk about it now. "Lie back." Dave's voice is rough, raw and it gives Puck a bit of a chill, even as he lies out on the bed. Dave's hand presses his legs open and Puck doesn't fight it, muscles lax as he just relaxes into it all -it's just sex, he just needs to keep telling himself that, it's just sex and it's not a big deal.

He's doing pretty good at relaxing into the whole thing as Dave just strokes a hand over Puck's thigh, and absently, Puck knows that Dave's pushing his leg up for easier access elsewhere, but it's not like he's willing to focus on that right then. The shock of a single slick finger pressing into him is somehow less when Dave sinks his teeth into Puck's thigh harshly, definitely leaving an imprint and bruise and dangerously close to breaking the skin. Puck jerks at it, almost sitting up until he realises that the finger slid in when Dave bit down and then Puck just shifts his hand to grip to the back of Dave's hair, biting his own lip to keep from making a noise. It's not exactly sore, or too weird, it's just a little uncomfortable, the finger pressing in and stroking back and Dave looks up from Puck's thigh, eyes blown and lips swollen. "No, hey, I wanna hear you. C'mon Puckerman, I get what I want, I wanna hear you." The first noise he makes is a gasp, Dave pressing his finger in as far as he can and Puck's back starts to arch back onto it, pressing back at Dave. It's something between a gasp, a moan and a whimper that comes out of Puck's throat as Dave presses a second finger in and _sucks _on the bite he just made on Puck's thigh.

"Fucking, shit." The back of Puck's head pressed into the mattress, back arching as Dave scissored his fingers, pressing to what Puck had to guess was his prostrate from the jerk of bliss that practically hammered through him. Dave repeated the motion and Puck's fingers clenched in his hair, muscles going tight and his back almost bending in half as he moaned. Fuck he didn't expect this, at all.

"Christ," Dave drew back slightly, adding some more lube to his fingers before pressing a third digit into Puck while holding his hip down, thumb stroking back to press lightly into the bruise coming up on Puck's thigh. "Always wondered what was so fucking special about you, what it was that made grown fucking women risk their damn marriages." Dave curves his fingers, stroking and pushing and rubbing and nudging just fucking right and Puck feels like his spine is whipcord tight and his whole body is ready to just come apart. "But, Christ, just look at you." Puck would really like to not look at him, he'd rather not, because just the noise he was making was embarrassing enough, considering what Dave was doing. "So fucking tight too, gonna be so fucking good, fucking you." A shudder ran through Puck at that, because he definitely wasn't feeling in the least bit hesitant right then. It almost felt like Dave was trying to press his pinky in too, except he was just pressing it against the opening, before he bent over and bit down right over Puck's over-sensitive nipple, making his jerk and twist, half wanting to get away from it. "C'mon, Puckerman, I wanna see you come." Fuck, where the hell was this coming from, but it wasn't like Puck was in any position to say no, he wasn't in any position to say anything, he wasn't even sure if he could say anything regardless of how hard he tried.

Between the pressure of Dave's fingers driving him mad and the hand that curled around Puck's cock, stroking in time with the press of fingers, Puck wasn't sure if he'd be able to see for much longer. It was bordering on painful, that sharp edge of arousal, the way Dave stroked; sure and strong, thumb swiping the head, those fingers hitting right on point with every thrust and far too soon or not soon enough, Puck's fists clench on the covers and his mouth drops in a gasp and he's coming over Dave's hand and shuddering as his nerves flare with heat. It's the hardest an orgasm has ever hit him and Puck actually struggles to breath around it. Dave groans above him pressing his denim covered erection against Puck's thighs -which parted wider all on their own- carefully withdrawing his fingers. Puck shocks himself with the whine of protest, even with his head tipped back and his eyes closed as he tries to calm his breathing. He shouldn't miss it, he shouldn't want it back.

Even as his heart was thumping in his chest and his blood drumming in his ears, Puck was keenly aware of Dave shedding his clothes. It didn't take long before Puck felt skin against skin and Dave's hand running up his chest again. "C'mere." Dave's hand curled around the back of Puck's neck, pulling him up and forward while bending slightly. Puck tilted his head, meeting Dave's mouth easily and opening under the pressure, tongue pressing to meet Dave's rather than give Dave the open chance to just kiss him. "On your knees." He's turned so he's facing away from Dave again, on his knees on the bed and Dave pushes his thighs apart again, fingers pressing against the mark just to make Puck's muscles spasm at the pressure. He can't quite place the feeling, mostly because it's so unfamiliar, but Puck's come this far and nothing has imploded on itself so surely that's a good sign. Except it does feel weird to have Dave pressed against his back when it's skin on skin and Dave's cock is pretty much sliding down the curve of his ass. That hand grips his neck again, and Puck's pushed forward just as Dave presses against Puck and it's all Puck can do not to tense up as Dave slides in with one smooth thrust. But _fuck _if that isn't a little uncomfortable. It doesn't hurt, not even on a minimal level, which is more than a good thing, considering the strain of his thigh and calf muscles and the arch of his spine as Dave leans forward on Puck's neck, pressing his chest and shoulders down into the mattress. "Jesus, fucking, Christ," it's slow to begin with, the pull out and push in and Puck has to tilt his hips to make it work but, fuck, Dave has a point. Puck has to wrap his hands around the side of the bed frame, just off the side of the mattress, head turned to the side and practically reduced to nothing but whines.

"Fuckin' swallowing me," Dave grunted out, fingers digging into Puck's neck as he started to build pace, thrusts becoming shaky, less controlled, just a steady rhythm of quick, jerky thrusts and Puck had to lock his arms and push back towards Dave just to brace himself on the bed. Considering how hard he'd just come, Puck wasn't getting it back up this quick, but the constant friction and the brush against his prostate shot bursts of pleasure down his spine well enough to make him shudder with each thrust and leave him semi-incoherent at the same time. Puck managed to catch Dave's faltering rhythm, clenching his already aching muscles with Dave's thrusts and pressing back to meet each one. It didn't take much for Dave to let go of Puck's neck to grip his hips and pull him back with more force until he was groaning and jerking against Puck before going still. Puck's heart was hammering a staccato in his chest, his body all but ready to just collapse where he was. Dave pressed a hand to the middle of Puck's back, pushing his shoulder blades down and Puck was half worried that Dave wanted something else and it just wasn't going to happen. But as Dave started to pull out, it became a little clearer. It still didn't stop Puck from hissing at the slight discomfort, even as Dave did the clean up before pulling Puck up to his knees.

"Gimme a minute, dude." Yeah, he'd be out of Dave's hair in a little while, but fuck he was used up right then and fuck if he had the energy to stand up. Dave just snorted slightly, grabbing a clothe and running it over Puck's stomach. Well that cleared up a little bit of an uncomfortable situation. Puck didn't even pay enough attention to figure out where the clothe ended up, only that Puck ended up back on the bed, under the sheets and laid out on his stomach.

This was not the norm either. But then, Puck was pretty sure he'd drive his truck into a wall and then there'd be the whole 'why are you even driving' thing when he still have four months probation on his licence and then the whole thing about driving into another building or whatever. So really, catching a few minutes rest wouldn't kill him or hurt too much.

When he wakes up, five hours later, he's stiff and sore and his muscles are making it known that they didn't appreciate the abuse. He pulls his stuff together and leaves without waking up Dave, making sure the front door locks behind him. School is, well, interesting is an understatement. Kurt's still a little on edge, but Puck's pretty sure it's the people around him that are the cause of that more than Kurt himself freaking out. Because Puck's seen it, Dave makes a point of ignoring Kurt, and not even in the 'you're a maggot' sort of way, but the 'just another face in the crowd' kind of way. There's no locker check, there's no slushies, there's nothing. Dave doesn't even look at Kurt at all never mind intimidate the kid.

"I'm staying at McKinley." Kurt tells him just before Glee on the Friday, smirking at Puck slightly. "I talked to my dad, he's okay with me staying here so long as nothing is happening. I really don't know what you did," part of Puck hopes that Kurt never asks, "but thank you." This is potentially the longest civil conversation they've had ever. And Puck just nods his head because he's not used to people thanking him, least of all for what he's doing. It's after Glee, when they're leaving to head to their last period, when Karofsky walks past the choir room -and he really shouldn't be anywhere near the choir room- and all he does is glance over. He barely even looks at Kurt, but Puck does catch the look, and he knows what it means and for some reason the lurch of anticipation is back and he feels his cock stir at the thought.

It's exactly how he ends up bent over Dave's desk, almost scratching marks into the wood while Dave fucks him. He'd been pretty sure he wouldn't be able to take it, he was still somewhat uncomfortable from last night and it had been awkward enough driving. He doesn't get off on the fucking this time either, but when Dave pulls out, tosses the condom to the trashcan, he grabs Puck's hip and pushes him up against the wall, pressing them chest to chest and wrapping his hand around Puck's cock. It's more of a rush this time, Dave biting at the corner of Puck's mouth while stroking his fist in a fast, harsh rhythm and Puck just bucks into it, one hand scratching at the wall while the other curls over Dave's hip. It's not even the handjob that gets him off, but Dave bends just a little to lick and then bite at Puck's nipple and Puck's body jerks towards it as he comes with a harsh cry. He really doesn't know what it is about this whole arrangement or whatever, but both times he's gone in feeling like scum and then had the most intense orgasm of his life. And it's not like Dave gets off and then kicks him out either, yesterday Puck slept it off for a while and right there, right now, Dave's pressed back against his chest, hand stroking over his ribcage and kissing him like it's a drug.

And it's still not all that weird, Puck figures that kissing a dude should be a little weird, but it's really not. Dave's fairly meticulous as well; like he's trying to memorise every inch of Puck's mouth or something. It's these deep, long kisses that sort of throw Puck for a bit of a loop, because it definitely doesn't feel like Dave's just getting his rocks off. "What're you doing tomorrow night?" Saturday night should be 'party night' but Puck hasn't bothered with those for months. He just shakes his head, waiting for Dave to go on. "Tell your mom you're staying at a friends." And seriously, Puck almost thought that the weekend would be completely void of this little exchange, but apparently Dave has other plans.

Puck tells his Ma he's having a video game marathon with Mike, calls Mike to make sure he's prepared to cover for him (he lets Mike think it's a cougar, lets him think Puck's getting back to old tricks, because it's probably better than the truth) and he's pretty much set for whatever. He doesn't drive to Dave's, because it's too weird and then there's the whole truck not being at Mike's place and frankly Puck needs to walk over to Dave's just to clear his head. He doesn't take anything with him, he doesn't even know if he'd need anything, and arrives on Dave's doorstep at nine sharp like he was told -seriously, he needs to wonder about this whole obedience thing because whoring himself is one thing, but doing what he's told is just above and beyond.

Apparently, Dave has the whole house to himself if there's anything that Puck can read from being pulled into the kitchen and pushed to his knees then and there. He's still got his fucking jacket on and Dave doesn't do more than open his jeans and pull himself out of his boxers before pushing into Puck's mouth and Puck figures that the night is supposed to be about Dave's dirty little fantasies or something. So he gives Dave head in the kitchen, drawing it out when Dave slows him down, letting his jaw loosen and Dave just fucks into it until he comes. Puck doesn't get pulled away, or given the option of not letting Dave come in his mouth, and he's about to get pissed off about that when Dave hands him a bottle of water and apparently, that was part of the dirty little fantasy.

The whole thing wasn't utterly gross, so Puck could let it go, and he had sort of given Dave free reign on whatever he wanted unless it got too freaky. He really did not expect that to happen, not with Dave, and his thoughts were only backed up when Dave pushed him back to the wall and started kissing him like he was checking for Puck's tonsils. And it was this kind of making out that totally got Puck hot for it; the firm press of lips, sure tongue and little nips, not overly wet and never too dirty. It was the kind of kiss that totally promised a lot more, and Puck got the now familiar coil of heat in his gut at the press of Dave's hips into his. "How serious were you about being up for anything?" Dave's breath brushes over Puck's ear as he asks it, and the shiver has nothing to do with the temperature.

"What, what is it you want?" He'd done plenty before, some bored housewives were far more bored than others and some of them were pretty kinky. Dave didn't answer him, just took a grip of Puck's wrists in his hands and squeezed. It shouldn't have been enough to get Puck rock hard in an instant, it shouldn't have been enough to get him arching towards Dave with a groan, but it was. "Yeah, okay." Dave gave him this biting kiss, nipping on his bottom lip and then sucking it, Puck gasping into Dave's mouth at the sensation of it. His lip is sucked and bitten until it's sore and feels swollen and Dave pulls back, licking at Puck's mouth again before pulling him away from the wall and up the stairs again.

He doesn't wait for Dave to tell him or whatever, when they get to Dave's bedroom, Puck slips his jacket off and kicks off his shoes and then Dave starts undoing Puck's jeans and Puck pulls his own shirt over his head. When he's naked, Dave directs him to the middle of the bed, pushing him down and straddling him, still fully dressed. The rough scrape of denim against his skin is enough to distract him while Dave pulls his hands over his head, pushing them down into the pillow and Puck hears the '_snick_' of the cuffs before it registers that he's been cuffed down. He gives one experimental tug then stops, letting his arms fall back on to the pillow. He's spread out over Dave's bed, cuffed down with Dave straddling him and Puck's heart hammering a million miles a minute.

"What's your safe word?" He'd needed one of those only once before, with Mrs Sanchez and that was mostly because she really liked control. But Dave threw it out so casual that Puck thought maybe he should re-evaluate his opinion on just how vanilla Dave was.

"Oyster." Dave just nods, not asking more beyond that, hands running down Puck's chest, flicking at Puck's nipple with his nail before sliding further down to Puck's hips. With a single squeeze, Dave shifted from the bed, pulling off his shirt and shedding his jeans and boxers. It built a little of the tension in his spine, watching Dave move around while he was restrained, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning it do. It caused the type of anticipation that Puck wasn't exactly used to.

Lube was placed on the side of the bed along with a few packets of condoms (and Puck wanted to wonder about the plural there but didn't really want to ask) and Dave slid between Puck's legs, spreading his thighs wide with hands on Puck's knees and leaning down to bite lightly at the still stark bruise on Puck's thigh. There was a clink from the cuffs as Puck jerked slightly, hips thrusting up, even as Dave slid two slick fingers past the ring of muscle easily and started a quick prep. The oddness of that still hadn't worn off, and Dave wasn't pressing too deep or drawing it out, just stretching as much as needed before kneeling back to sheath himself in a condom and then pressing in.

It was the first time in this position, and a little awkward. But Dave's hand grips the underside of Puck's thigh pushing his leg up a little to give a better angle as he started up a slow pace of deep, long thrusts. He kept the pace slow, but shifted slightly with each thrust and Puck just tilted his hips into it until one particular thrust caught right on point and Puck shuddered and moaned. It seemed to be what Dave was looking for, since he kept on that angle, keeping his pace slow but firm and building in strength as he repeatedly pressed in and hit that perfect angle to push jolt after jolt of pleasure down Puck's spine. "Fuck, yes," it was completely overwhelming, this constant barrage of pleasure building and pushing through him.

"Yeah, fuck, you're so fucking tight, c'mon Puck, let it go." Dave's thrusts picked up in speed, barely any time separating each nudge to his prostate and Puck's calf started to cramp from the tightness of the muscle as he clenched. Dave's fingers tightened on Puck's thigh at the same time he jerked inwards with a swift and hard thrust and Puck went rigid as he came with a shout. "Jesus Christ," Dave groaned, pitching forward slightly and losing the angle and the pace but still thrusting inside as Puck's muscles seized tightly. "So fuckin' good, gonna fuck you blind, Puckerman, swear to God." Puck doesn't have anything to say back to that, not as he shakes through the after tremors and Dave's continued fucking. He can't form words, can barely get the gasps of breath out between moans. It's bordering on too much, the continued stimulation to his nerves, but he can't pull away from it, beyond tugging his wrists slightly and that does nothing.

Each spark of pleasure is tangled with this mild flare of pain, this burn from abused nerves and Puck's torn between each sensation, half whimpering and half whining at each move. With his body still clenching rhythmically, Dave took a few more thrusts, losing all sense of pace and just jerking against Puck, before his grip tightened enough to hurt and came, releasing Puck's leg to slowly drop to the side while he leaned forward, bracing himself on his hand by Puck's shoulder to stop from collapsing on his chest. There's still this pulse, sort of a throb that still radiates through Puck's whole body, but it's far more bearable and they both just lie there, catching their breath until Dave pulls back and slowly withdraws. Puck moans at it, low at the back of his throat, the slight twinge from the withdrawal and then the ache from losing that feeling.

The condom is discarded, and Puck half expects Dave to get something to wipe them both down, but he doesn't. He presses back between Puck's thighs, soft against the hinge of Puck's hip and groin, leaning over Puck's chest and no doubt very aware of the thump of Puck's heart. Puck tries to pull his arms down again as a force of habit when Dave's tongue flicks over his nipple, twitching away from it even as it causes a jolt in his cock. "Tell me if it's too much." At first, Puck's not really aware what Dave means until he nips with his teeth and Puck hisses, back arching and hips pushing up. He really wants to grip to Dave's head, or the sheets, or anything really, but his wrists pull against the cuffs and Puck moans loudly as he presses upwards towards Dave's mouth. He gets what Dave means when two fingers press back into him, and it is a whine this time, he's pulling away from it even as Dave pushes his hips down and his fingers further in, stroking around the walls of his ass and just getting teasingly close to his prostate. It's right on that razor edge of pleasure and pain and Puck's incoherent beyond whines and whimpers, hips bucking up as he cries out when Dave pinches his nipple and presses his fingers against his prostate at the same time.

His jaw clenches, as Dave pulls back from his nipple, pushing a third finger in alongside the other and pressing against that point, spreading Puck's thighs as he ruts against Puck's hip. It's a complete overload of pleasure; Dave's fingers in his ass, his other hand pressed against Puck's side, thumb brushing up against his nipple randomly just sending more shocks of pleasure through him. He's pushing back as much as he can, fucking himself on Dave's fingers and just letting out a slew of noises he can't even keep up with. "Fuck, you were fucking made for this, weren't you? Fucking slut for it." Dave's voice is rough, almost breathless and Puck whines in response, desperate to get over that edge. "C'mon, c'mon, that's it." It's the harsh pull against his pec and Dave twisting his fingers and Puck's actually screaming as he comes, every muscle in his body burning and Dave thrusts against his hip and stomach before coming and adding to the mess on Puck's abs.

Dave collapses on the bed, right next to Puck and it takes them both a while to calm their breathing. Puck spends most of the night cuffed to Dave's bed, and in between hour or two hour naps finds himself fucked more than he even thought possible. He stumbles home sometime around five on Sunday night and just waves off his mother and crawls into his own bed; his ass is raw, his muscles are strained and sore, his nerves still fire a little sensitive and he's tore the skin around his wrists. He's not sure when this turned into some kind of marathon of sex, or some kind of point to prove. He was pretty sure it would've been a few fucks, a couple of blow jobs, that keeping Kurt from the abuse wouldn't have him so wrung out and confused to hell and back. Because he definitely did not think he'd get off on it this much, and he doesn't hate it, and sweet Jewish Jesus if Dave isn't getting everything he's owed from this.

He manages to catch up on enough sleep to actually function come Monday, even if he is in long sleeved shirts for the duration of whatever until his wrists heal up and if he's a little stiff moving no one says anything. And Dave still gives him these looks, and Puck still goes to Dave's house and they still keep doing it. Dave's probably fulfilled every single one of those dirty little fantasies of his, and Puck's probably found a few kinks he never really knew about; like that biting/marking/bruising thing that's going on with his thigh, because it's still there and Dave just keeps darkening it.

But everyone is just happy to still have Kurt, and the only time Kurt got slushied was when some stupid freshman was trying to be cool and impress the jocks to get on the team next year. Mike had distracted one of the teachers while Puck shoved the kid into the janitors closet and locked it from the outside and the girls took Kurt to get cleaned up. Except one day Azimio gets a little frustrated or whatever and aims to get Kurt in a dumpster, for old times sakes, and _Dave _is the one that stops that shit. Kurt tells him in Glee, he's still all 'thank you, Noah' and Puck just shrugs. He's telling Puck and Finn and Rachel and Mercedes about the whole thing when he just smiles and looks right at Puck. "Whatever it is you've done with Karofsky, you should do it with the whole team." And there's this ice cold spike of something at the back of Puck's throat and his stomach feels far too tight and he definitely feels like he's going to puke. He just gets up and leaves, absently hearing Kurt's low, "I didn't mean right now."

He's in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and getting control of himself again, because he knows that realistically Kurt wasn't suggesting that he whore himself to the whole team -he's fairly sure not all of them would go for it, but there are the few that might and he just feels like total scum all over again. He shows up on Dave's doorstep after school, even though he never said a thing. Dave doesn't comment, just pulls him inside and then presses him up against the door to kiss him. Puck's still getting used to this bit of it, cause Dave's started just kissing him for the sake of kissing him and Puck's not sure what to make of it. He's been sleeping with Dave for almost a month, whoring himself for Kurt's safety and it's only just hit him how messed up he is.

"I can't keep doing this." He thinks it makes him sound like a pussy. Dave doesn't move back, just stays right in Puck's space and for a blinding minute it's like he won't let it stop anyway. Because when it comes down to it, Puck knows that if Dave says he'll just go back to harassing Kurt, Puck'll keep doing it. But he'd expect anger if that were the cause, some threats, maybe something that goes along with being a nasty fucker. Dave just presses their foreheads against each other and holds on to Puck's hips. His parents still aren't around, and Puck wonders if they ever are.

"I don't want to." It doesn't make sense, because Dave's pretty much plastered against him and they're pretty much sharing breath and he's saying he doesn't want to keep doing this? This exact thing that he's not pulling back from. Puck's confusion must be evident though. "I don't want you doing this to keep Hummel safe. It's not like that." Dave pulls back marginally, hands running up Puck's sides, under his shirt and Puck's so used to that feeling that he closes his eyes and leans into it. "I don't want to fuck you because you're protecting Hummel," fingers press into the spaces between his ribs, Dave's teeth moving to the side of Puck's neck, "don't want you spread over my bed cause you're getting me to lay off the littlest fairy," there has to be a point to this, since Dave presses his hips into Puck's and he's already hard and that alone makes Puck's cock harden further. "I want you because you want it. Not some stupid bargain for your friend." As in sex for the sake of sex, as in just fucking because they want to, as in not basically being a fucking prostitute for it. "C'mon man, I won't mess with Hummel, but not because you're giving me sex for it."

It sort of really works out, because Puck is sort of, kind of, just utterly into this whole thing with Dave, whatever the hell it is. And giving it up would fucking suck, even if it did stop him feeling like utter shit all the time -you know, apart from when he's coming his brains out. He just sort of nods his head against Dave's, leaning in to Dave's body and nodding again. There's a partial grin on Dave's face when they meet for another kiss and Puck groans slightly, because it never gets old. When Dave pulls back, Puck pushes them away from the door into the main room, getting Dave up against the sofa. "That's really great and all, but you deserve a bit of somethin' something for that shit with Azimio."

And it's totally not the same thing, because positive reinforcement isn't the same as whoring, so Puck smirks as he undoes Dave's jeans and drops to his knees right there in the living room.

That whole 'stupid idea' of whoring himself out for Kurt fucking Hummel? Best decision ever.


End file.
